Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime (Butcher Remix)

Check me out y'all, Nasty Nas in area
About to mass hysteria

Before a blunt, I out my fronts
Then I to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets a ton of reefer
That's like Malcolm X the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too flavor, I'm major
Atlanta and braver, I a number like a pager
Cause I'm am ace when I face the
40 is the place that is giving me grace
Now wait, dose and you might be dead
And I'm a head, I wear chains that excite the feds
And ain't' a damn thing gonna
I'm a perform a strange show the mic wonder was the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat fluid when you rhyme, it's

It's

It's like that, you know it's that
I got at him, now you never get the mic
When I attack, there ain't an army that strike back
So I react calmly on a hype track
I set it off wit my own
Cause I'm as ill as a convict who for phone time
I'm max like cassettes, I flex sex
In your stereo sets, Nas catch wreck
I to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive
I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
I drop jewels, wear to never run it
Wit more kicks than a baby in a mother's
Nasty Nas has to rise, kid,
is exercise til the microphone dies
Back in '83, I was an MC
But I was too scared to the mic's in the park and
my little raps 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't understand
And now in every jam I'm the man
I rap in front of more niggas than in the slave
I used to C.H.I.P.S, now I load glock clips
I got to have it, I Mr Magic
Versatile, my style like a fagot
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a professional and no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you near it, understand
'cause in the streets, I'm well like the number man
In my wit the bass and format
Explore rap and tell me Nas ain't all
And next time I rhyme, I be fouled I freestyle
I see trial say I'm wow
I a rhyme biter's rhyme
Stay tuned, Nas, soon the rap comes at halftime

halftime

I got it going on, even flip 'em on song
Every afternoon, I kick the tune
And in the darkness, I'm heartless like the narcs hit
Word to Marcus or heartless Sparkton
'cause when I blast the herb, my word
I be slaying them fast, this, that in the third
But chill, past the entree and lay
I bag bitches up at Jay and hit a matinee
hits on 5-0
Cause when my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
And biters can't near
And yo, go to to the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't need an extra I can't feed
That's Phillie change, more cash for that weed
This goes out to Manhattan, the island of
Brooklyn, Queens is fat and
The Boogie Down, enough props, enough
I'll will, in peace, yo, I'm out

It's halftime